Short Hotel Room Poems
Short Hotel Room Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Hotel Room by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Hotel Room by length and keyword.
Hotel room next door
Headboard to wall symphony....
Fireworks starting soon
© May 10 2010 Charles Henderson
Wine petals spreaded
Perfumated silk bed sheets
Lovers clandestine
Sordid hotel room affair
Emptiness by repetance
4-21-2016
In the hotel room
You feel more at home
You sleep better without
Without anything
Without everything
Without real life
Depriving yourself
As martyrs often do
Their meetings were always clandestine
Often in the same hotel room
and on the same day and time
where by lustful desires they were consumed
and by the smell of cheap perfume
In his fancy hotel room James found bed bugs
at first he thought he was on too many drugs.
But they were real, moving about
he wanted to leave, get right out.
But a maid came and swept 'em under the rugs.
As we chased
Spotlights,
So did I find
Your perversions
Fearfully
Desirable.
What with
the oil in that
Hotel room, it
Must have
Been obvious
to you.
Speeding along,
Awaiting for Death
by a forklift
in Winter.
Romantic dreams were shattered when
They roamed the sheet in search of food
And hunted on the pillowcase;
The bedbugs spoilt the loving mood…*
For Susan’s Hotel Room contest
A true story – have had a phobia ever since!
it's the eighth
day that i've
been here
now the
ninth
day
of
the
month
and the
moon is full
though i'm in
my hotel room
i know
above
my roof
top there
is a lunar
pull that
lifts me
and
makes
the gecko
speak
Form:
in a hotel room
born of the dust
i sat on the bed
i began to rust
from knowledge in the air
from seasonal flair
i learned in this room
i learned how to read
its just like a class
except all it needs
is more than just me
and this glowing screen
Form:
A Starry Summer's Night
An
observed
perception
of time is seen
from a hotel room
window in front of a
stony beach and linden trees
on a calm, starry summer night,
where starlight reflects off the waters
of a secluded Norwegian fjord.
to avoid bad stares
we told everyone
she was my
daughter
not too
odd
even
when we went
to our hotel room
with two twin beds
we had to climb four
stairs
of
s
t
g
i
l
f
Form:
OBIT
unrequited love was
found dead last night
naked and alone
in a hotel room
killed by a single shot
to the heart
police have no suspects
at this time think suicide
was the cause there is
no family to speak of
although countless thousands
have sent flowers
A half-full bottle of scotch
stands in the middle of a stool,
as the wind blows away the cigar
ashes away from the ashtray
Besides the stool,
a king-size bed carries the weight
of a man holding a cigar on his mouth,
planning who the next victim will be;
a person who is stopping at nothing
to destroy his drug empire
Do you remember when phones had a cord to the wall outlet?
Our son was about five years old.
We were in a hotel room and he wanted to call daddy.
He ran over to the phone and picked it up.
As he looked at me with a very puzzled look, he said it has no dial tone.
Yes, no dial tone because we are in a hotel room.
Thin walls reveal, too well,
the aspirations of my neighbors.
Quiet moans mingle
with the drone of TV,
a strange mélange of real
and imagined eroticism.
As their headboard
bangs a jumbled tattoo,
I join them, gasping
like a hooked carp at our shared
moment of completion.
I wonder if they
search for a tissue,
too.
Till our sun falls from the sky
The weather was frigid or she was,
reminiscing daydreams convulsed May.
Gray Dodge Omni parents backyard,
baseball players in a hotel room.
Graduate weed university age 16,
Stoned in the coffee shop,
high at the state speech tournament,
Ginsberg foggy and oblique,
country music radios.
We got off the plane in Malta after our flight
Reached the arrivals hall and to our delight...
there to greet us with a hug and a smile
Paul Callus, his wife and his lovely grand daughter Valentina
THANK YOU PAUL - YOU MADE MY HOLIDAY COMPLETE BEFORE IT HAS EVEN BEGUN!!!!
Written in my hotel room in Sliema Malta
27th October 2015
“Till the sun falls from the sky”
Either the weather was frigid or she was,
reminiscing daydreams convulsed May.
Gray Dodge Omni parents backyard,
baseball players in a hotel room.
Graduate weed university age 16,
Stoned in the coffee shop,
high at the state oral interpretation tournament,
Ginsberg foggy and oblique,
country music radios.
Sitting alone in a hotel room
Looking out over flat roofed buildings
At twinkling lights across the Island.
How many lights?
How many people?
Sitting alone in their rooms?
Looking out.
Alone.
Searching.
Despairing of finding ourselves.
Fearful of discovery
That I am Me.
Who is dying?
Slowly but slowly we all surely will.
Choice is everything.
The story of a flyer who was lifted higher. How one of Howard Hughes' personal pilots became an Episcopal minister after a life-altering, life-shattering night in a hotel room. He then became a personal adviser to kings, presidents and other celebrities after his soul-awakening. Learn what he learned in the process and meet those he met; it may change your life!
stranger
in a strange city
peers out
from a glass pane
of a forty-first floor
hotel room
down at a busy
evening avenue;
neon-lit,
the world below
seems to pulsate
in every direction,
throbbing,
vibrating
in a motorized
frenzy
of means
and of ends,
same everywhere
as anywhere,
the ultimate purpose,
it seems,
is still somewhere near
nowhere.
Found the best hotel room
For a little get-away.
Went there once before and knew
That’s where I want to stay.
Checked it out last week but didn’t
Click where it said, “Book.”
Now, today, I’m ready but
When going back to look…
Of course, the room I want is gone.
The lesson to be learned
Is – do things when you have the chance
Or else, you will get burned.
Anger is our answer,
When you hit the child
In the hollow bedroom,
God is our answer,
When the pleasure springs
In the hotel room,
When he disappears at dawn
Like a cat at fault,
Under the sheets and paintings,
God is our answer,
When the air rushes in
In our sick lungs,
When the blackberries jam
Flow between our fingers,
Under the watchful eye of our mothers,
there's no one around you see
it's just me and cliff
ear buds help cushion the volume
my smartphone warns me
it could damage my ears
i put it at full volume
it's 9:40pm and the family are asleep
this could go on all night
cliff said he was proud he never adopted a
hedonistic rock and roll lifestyle and never wanted
to trash a hotel room
i've just trashed the attic
I am so tired, my friend
Tired of scaring my own heart
To please the hearts of others
Tired of feeding with vodka and Russia
The sadness of my poems
I sang feedom, imprisoned by my fever
So young and so tired
Not sorry, not calling, not crying
I am shutting my eyes
And arbitrary blackness is galloping in
Black hotel room, black blood
And stars start waltzing on the ceiling
Dying is nothing new in this life